


The Cavalry, They Called Her.

by MissPuck



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 16:51:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2739857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissPuck/pseuds/MissPuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Set after Ye Who Enter Here) </p><p>Stand alone fanfiction, in which Melinda reflects on losing Skye to Grant Ward; and what it really means to her. This is not a romantic Skye/Melinda story. It has shades of Philinda, and of Skyeward (though it's not particularly kind to Skyeward, since it is from Melinda's perspective, and yes, that was difficult for me to write)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cavalry, They Called Her.

The Cavalry, they called her.

They spread her story until all the details were lost, until it became a legend- and legends were never entirely true. Legends were stripped of the all fleshy facts, leaving only a skeleton of what it once truly was, bones to be wrapped tightly with whatever niceties it required to pretty the story up, and make it suitable for public consumption. They ate it up, oblivious to the poison that seeped from the enamel, and into their gullets.

It made them feel safe.

The way it had made Skye feel safe.

Because they called her the Cavalry. Because she would come in and save the day. That was the point, right?

Melinda May bristled.

The title had embittered her since its inception, but never more than at that very instant, when its deceptiveness allowed a young agent to believe that she was safe, allowed Phil Coulson to believe that Skye was protected. That had been more of a lie than the twisted remains of the story that emptied Melinda out in the first place. Now even the bones of a legend that never should have been, were crushed to dust, covering the remaining inhabitants of the plane like the ash coating Pompeii after the eruption. They all knew the truth, in spite of no one actually speaking it.

Silence was often the loudest thing.

And right then it was screaming at her, demanding to understand why the world was the way it was. Why evil won, why good lost, why lambs, even the ones that filed their teeth into knives, fell prey to the wolves that hunted them, why everything was just so damned difficult.

Melinda knew the answers; they were scorched deeply into her core; they had stolen away the little girl she once was, the little girl that resembled Skye so faithfully it had sent currents of resentment coursing through her body upon their first few months together on the team. Nonetheless, in times of darkness, the excruciating inquiries hammered away at her, chipping at any hope within until there was nothing left but a dull, empty ache within her ribcage. Now everyone knew those questions, heard them as they watched Skye being escorted off of the plane by a former friend; just as they knew Melinda was no more The Cavalry than any other agent.

Even so, she couldn’t be content that the name would no longer follow her; the cost of it was too high. When she wished like hell that no one would use that damned title again, she hadn’t read the price tag, hadn’t known that she wouldn’t be the one paying that bill.

It was going to be Skye- the embodiment of hope and life, the ghost that Melinda saw when she stared hard into a mirror. Melinda wondered if it would have been better if the price had been Skye’s life instead. As it was, the ramifications would be much worse. The agony would last much longer. No one knew that better than Melinda May; who had seen so much of herself in Skye upon their first encounter, that it had been like a bucket of ice water in the face. The smile, the glimmer in the eye, the belief that this was a world worth saving, was all too familiar. Perhaps Phil had seen it too, and that why he had been so inclined to trust her, despite it all.

Seeing Skye, her deep hunger for life, and her sense of adventure; had only deepened that chasm in Melinda’s chest. It became worse when she saw her own reflection in Skye’s eyes, how the hacker looked at her, as though she were some kind of heartless beast.

 _I was once like you._ Melinda had wanted to tell her, _can’t you see it? Or am I really that far gone?_

She hadn’t needed to though; she hadn’t needed to say a single word. Skye started hanging around the cockpit more often, appraised her with a thoughtfulness that she hadn’t before. Melinda never did know why, perhaps it was just Skye’s intuitive nature, perhaps Coulson had a word with her, or perhaps it was something else entirely. It didn’t matter why, not really. Soon the resentment that Melinda had felt, being confronted daily with this better version of herself, transformed into a fierce protectiveness. No. She hadn’t been able to keep that hope alive in herself, but maybe, if she wrapped Skye up in cotton, then in steel, it could stay alive in _her_. And in a way, that meant she could still have a little of that hope for herself. Melinda had felt herself softening to it, felt some of that old hope returning, like it hadn't been dead at all- just dormant.

Now that was all shot to hell.

They called her The Cavalry, and at the moment she wished that she could have lived up to that title. But no. She had failed. Again.

Skye was going to live through this sacrifice, this giving of herself to save the team. One day she would return, and Melinda _knew_ that. Hell, she had known it the moment that Ward had asked for her that Skye would stay alive. He thought he was in love with her, and that meant he’d keep her safe, physically at least, above everything else. If he couldn't, Skye definitely would. Between the two of them, she'd remain breathing. Melinda had that faith in her now. It wasn’t trepidation for Skye’s life that twisted Melinda into knots of dread and helplessness. In truth, Melinda knew that Tripp had been right, the plane was in far more peril than Skye would be.

No. Skye’s fate would be worse than death, and now that Ward had kept his promise long enough for them to retreat and hide; Melinda would have to witness it.

Soon that bubbling enthusiasm, that fervor for life and all of its adventures, that _spirit_ would be bled out of her.

And the man holding that knife was probably going to be Grant _Fucking_ Ward.

That was why she had _hated_ that Phil sent Skye into the vault to gather intel from Ward. It wasn’t her own personal feelings for Ward, because he had been a means to an end in the bedroom, a way to bury what she really wanted, and _who_ she really wanted it from.

It was what Ward could do to Skye. What he had already done to her. What he was probably doing to her at that very moment.

He would pervert all of the things that were so noble about her, the things that made him love her- the compassion, the empathy, the _can-do_ spirit; and use it to his own advantage. He wouldn't mean to, but he was too broken to do anything else, and Melinda had known it since the moment he had a gun on Skye, telling her that he could wake up something inside of her. He’d take the truth and lie with it, until she was all twisted up and only had two options left. Love him. Or hate him.

Both would destroy her in the end. Him too.

Melinda had already seen the vestiges of that forming in the way that Skye managed to bring his name into everything, and the way she claimed visceral hatred so intensely that it felt more like she was trying to convince herself than anything else. How long though, before that hatred was actually real enough to strip away some of the softness that made-up Skye’s identity? Or how long before she realized the lie for what it was? How long before she would lose herself trying to save a man who was too far gone?

That was, sadly, the best-case scenario. What if Grant couldn’t protect her from the monster he worked for? What if Skye shared the same fate as Agent 33? What if her father beckoned her into his lunacy?

How long before Melinda May had to watch what had happened to her, happen to Skye?

Was this how Phil had felt when he said those words to her in Bahrain? Had he watched the light inside her eyes flicker out, with the same panic and powerlessness that she felt now?

Did it hurt to watch Agent Melinda May become The Cavalry?

They never talked about it. She had the sense he instinctively knew that there was no apt way to sum it up. Now she wished that she asked him, that she had scoured every dictionary and thesaurus until finding the right words of inquiry, so that she could be prepared for what she was about to endure. Maybe if she had, she could survive it, the way that Phil survived _everything_.

Nevertheless, she knew that it would never be a conversation they would have, despite the necessity of it. Now would be too painful, too fresh. This was to become another mission lost, another silent trauma, another thing they’d bury beneath shallow words concerning things that didn’t really matter.

Phil would continue fighting the good fight. She'd continue to battle it with him, never telling him why, or precisely how much he meant to her. The status quo would remain, because it was the only peace she'd probably ever know.

Skye would return, shadowed by the pain and darkness of surviving in an unforgiving world, a dull empty ache in her ribcage, and the gentle core stripped away until there was only hard bone left. She’d look in the mirror and see a stranger; she'd examine the world and see the futility of it all. She would rejoin the ranks, because there was nothing else that she could do. It would be all that she had left.

Soon the story of her sacrifice would spread; it would grow into legend, the fleshy facts stripped away and replaced with the niceties required to pretty the story up for public consumption. The circumstances would sound more dire, the odds even less in their favor, and she would emerge the great _martyr_ who saved them all, while no one ever truly touched on what cross she had actually been nailed to that day.

The Calvary, they would call her.

**Author's Note:**

> to be clear, Calvary is not a typo.
> 
>  
> 
> Melinda/Skye are one of my favorite relationships on AOS , so I had to write this.
> 
> Hope you liked it :)


End file.
